Dark Defender (6 page)

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Authors: Alexis Morgan

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Dark Defender
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But he definitely wasn’t a boy anymore, not with those broad shoulders and powerful muscles. He didn’t have the beefy build of a weight lifter, but more the kind of strength that one often saw in well-trained military or firemen. Somehow, she didn’t think either of those were what he did for a living. He’d hated rules and regulations as a youth, and judging by his actions over the past two days, he still did.

And he hadn’t wanted to be with her when the police came to interview her in the hospital. Was he afraid of them for some reason? She poked at that idea for a second or two before rejecting it. The idea of Blake being afraid of anyone was absurd. He had good reason to not care for the law in general and she’d already seen him bend more than one rule, but he’d never walk on the wrong side of the law.

A niggling little voice reminded her that Blake had left twelve years ago; how much could she really know about the man he’d become? Enough to know that he’d keep her safe for the night, and for now, that was enough.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she braced herself for a fight over which one of them got the bed and which would make do with the chair. But Trahern was already sprawled in the chair, sound asleep. If she tried to move him, it would only start another argument that she’d probably end up losing.

The cool sheets felt like heaven to her as she snuggled between them, and she turned to better see Blake. The faint light she’d left on softened his features as he slept, making it easier to see the boy she’d known in the hard-edged man he’d become. Clinging to that small familiarity, she let her eyes drift closed and slept.

Blake frowned. Normally he didn’t mind a raccoon or possum invading his yard, but right now all he wanted to do was sleep. If the creature didn’t quiet down soon, it would find out the hard way what a crack shot Blake was.

The whimper came again, this time loud enough for him to recognize the sounds of pain and fear. Crap, it was probably an abandoned baby looking for its mother. That was all he needed; another night spent trapping a scared animal and getting it to one of the wildlife rescue shelters.

After a bit, the noise stopped. Satisfied that mother and child had been reunited, he tried to turn over to sink back into deep sleep.

Something was wrong, though. Either his bed had shrunk or he was sleeping in a chair. His eyes reluctantly opened, first one and then the other. Son of a bitch, he
was
in a chair, not his decadently comfortable king-size bed. And the whimpers he’d been hearing weren’t from some lost animal, but Brenna crying in her sleep.

He managed to stand up, every joint in his body screaming in protest, and pulled the chair closer to the head of the bed.

“It’s all right, Brenna. I’m right here.” He rubbed her shoulder and back slowly, hoping the dubious comfort of his touch wouldn’t startle her awake. From the way she was crying, she was trapped in a dream, most likely a replay of the explosion. He hoped like hell that she wasn’t one of those people who dreamed in color. She didn’t need to see her father blown to bits in vivid clarity.

“Hush, Brenna. Don’t cry.”

Please don’t cry.
He could face down a dozen Others armed with razor-sharp swords and not blink an eye, but a woman with a tear-streaked face unmanned him completely. He bet Devlin Bane, back in Seattle, would be rolling on the floor watching Blake try to comfort Brenna. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t be. Devlin was just about the biggest, baddest Paladin of all time, and now he was in love—with his Handler, of all people.

The two of them seemed very happy together, making all the other Paladins more than a little jealous. What Devlin and Laurel shared was much more than good sex; in all the years that he’d known him, Blake had never seen Devlin more content.

He suddenly realized that Brenna’s crying had tapered off. He slowly pulled back his hand, hoping the worst was over, but she began thrashing around until he put it back again. He left his hand on her shoulder, figuring it was little enough when she was in such obvious pain. After a few minutes, though, his back was protesting loudly over the awkward position.

He couldn’t stay that way for the rest of the night; it was hours until dawn. So, he did the only thing he could think of: he joined her on the bed. As long as he stayed on top of the covers and she stayed tucked nice and safe under them, her virtue would remain intact.

Would she have found comfort in his touch if she knew the truth about him? No rational woman would. Even if she could accept that he was hardwired to fight and kill Others, he was rapidly losing his humanity. The last time he’d been badly wounded, his Handler had bought extra strong chains just for him. That hadn’t kept him from trying to break free from that cold steel table, screaming for hours and shredding the skin around his wrists and ankles until they bled.

He could remember the pain in Devlin’s voice as he offered to end Trahern’s life permanently to stop his misery. He’d been so tempted to accept, but that would have been the coward’s way out. When his time came to be put down, he wanted it to count for something—not because he was afraid to face another day as a Paladin.

A woman like Brenna Nichols deserved a gentler man to comfort her, one who knew all the right words to brush away her nightmares. But selfish as it might be, that wasn’t going to stop him. When he gathered her into his side, she came willingly, snuggling in to rest her face on his chest with his arm wrapped around her.

It felt like heaven, even if the predictable effect on his body was a living hell. How many times over the years had he dreamed of this exact moment, holding her in his arms with her warmth and scent filling his senses?

Of course, in his dreams they were both naked and sated after a night of wild monkey sex—but this version would do.

 

“Quit pounding so loud, damn it. I can’t concentrate.”

Swan glared at him and went right back to whacking his fist on the wall every few inches.

“I said stop it!” Montgomery had his own investigating to do and listening to that racket wasn’t going to help.

“How am I supposed find a hidden safe if I don’t check out the walls?”

“A hidden safe is going to be behind a picture on the wall or under a rug on a hardwood floor, not under sheet rock where the only way the judge could access it is with a crowbar.”

Swan wasn’t stupid, just too young on the job. “Okay, so I’ll start looking behind things. How about all those books in his office?”

“Perfect. Take a few out at time and look behind them. Let me know if you see anything suspicious.” When his partner left, he continued his methodical search of the living room. The office was the obvious place for the judge to have hidden files, but his detective’s nose told him the judge wouldn’t go for the obvious.

So as his friend checked behind the heavy law books in the next room, Montgomery slowly made his way around the living room. Running his fingertips over every surface, he checked each table, every picture, and every cushion for anything taped to the bottom or hidden between the cushions. It took him the better part of half an hour to do just that one room.

He was about to start in the hallway and then go on to the kitchen when his cell phone rang. Technically he and Swan were still on duty, so he couldn’t ignore it. Pulling out his phone, he checked the number. It was his boss, all right, but not the one he’d been expecting. Damn. He’d
told
the man they knew as Mr. Knight that he’d call when they had news. Remembering the chill in the man’s eyes, a shiver curled up his spine. It wouldn’t be wise to ignore the call.

“Montgomery here.”

“Well?” The arrogant bastard conveyed a wealth of disdain in just that one word.

“We got here less than an hour ago. There was a double homicide we were called in on until…” Mr. Knight didn’t want excuses, only results. “We’re looking now. I’ve checked the living room. Swan’s in the old man’s office.”

“You won’t find anything there.”

“That’s why I left that room for Swan.” His partner had strong suits, but subtlety wasn’t one of them. If he wanted to hide something, he’d probably put it in an envelope and write “do not open” on the front.

“Wise thinking, Detective Montgomery.”

He didn’t give a damn what Mr. Knight thought about him. The only thing that mattered was that the man paid well for results.

“I’ll be out of touch for the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Leave any messages on my voice mail, but I won’t be able to get back to you until tomorrow night or the next morning.” The phone went dead.

Montgomery stared at his cell as he muttered every curse word he could think of. A few bucks for some inside information on their investigation hadn’t seemed like such a big deal, at first. They should have known that if it seemed like easy money, it would turn around and bite them on the ass.

He just hoped their asses were still alive when the dust settled. Maybe he’d pack a suitcase when he got home. Just in case.

 

Trahern had never had much use for cell phones, and the tinny music chirping away before the sun was up was enough to make him homicidal. He eased his arm out from around Brenna, hoping to silence the damn thing before it woke her up.

Snatching up the phone from the bedside table, he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. “This better be important,” he growled into the receiver.

“Shut up, Trahern. I’ve already been up for hours and don’t want to hear any complaints from you.” There was a lot of static on the line, but Jarvis’s bad mood came through clearly.

Rather than getting into a pissing contest over which of them was in a worse mood, Trahern started over. “What do you need, Jarvis?”

“I’m going active down near the boot heel. Seismology has been picking up reports of swarms of weak, shallow earthquakes. They’re calling all the locals in. Sounds like we’ll be dancing with the darkness tonight.”

“How bad is it?” He knew from his days along the barrier in that area that minor earthquakes were common. The Paladins who stood guard along the New Madrid Fault saw more active duty than some of those assigned to better-known fault lines. But when the earthquakes came in swarms, there just weren’t enough Paladins and guards combined to protect the whole area. If he didn’t have responsibility for Brenna’s welfare, he would have offered his sword. He was no longer as finely tuned to the local barrier, but could still feel it well enough to know it was under attack.

“Don’t know yet. The Regents say reinforcements will be sent in from out of state if needed, but they’ve made that promise before. Hopefully, I’ll be back in St. Louis within a couple of days. Until then, you’re on your own.”

No surprise in that. “Fine. Call when you get back. And Jarvis?”

“Yeah?”

He wanted to wish his friend luck in battle, but couldn’t find the words. “Uh, never mind. Look, I’ll talk to you when you get back.”

Jarvis understood him, anyway. “You watch yourself, too, Trahern. Gotta go.” The line went dead.

He and Jarvis had lived hard, fighting and drinking with equal abandon. But they had also done a lot they could be proud of, too. The average human might not be aware of the battle that raged along the fault lines and near the volcanoes to keep the Others from pouring across and into this world, but the Paladins didn’t fight for glory. They fought because someone had to, and they were the best at it.

“Who was that?”

Brenna stood outside the bathroom door, looking rumpled and warm and too damn sexy.

“Jarvis.”

“What did he want at this ungodly hour?” She was rubbing the stitches in her arm, which probably meant it was healing.

“Stop picking at your arm. You’ll get it all inflamed.”

“Quit trying to avoid the question. What did Jarvis want? Is something wrong?” She was more awake now and the fear was back in her eyes.

“No, nothing is wrong. He got called out of town on business for a couple of days and wanted to let me know.”

“What kind of work does he do?”

“Same kind I do.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I told you yesterday that I’d only let things slide until we both got some rest. Sleepy time is over, buster, so start talking or I’m out of here.”

Trahern snorted. “And where would you go, and how would you get there? You’ve got no money, no purse, and you didn’t seem overly impressed by those two detectives you spoke to.”

She threw back her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full height, almost a foot less than his. It was cute.

“I’m a big girl, Blake Trahern. I can and will take care of myself. I’ve been doing so for years.”

She turned away, leaving him staring after her. He hadn’t meant to rile her, but he wasn’t free to tell her what he and Jarvis did for a living. It was unlikely she’d believe him, anyway.

The reality of the Others had been hard enough for
him
to accept, right up until they came at him with their wide-bladed swords and throwing knives. That kind of action made a believer out of a man pretty damn quick.

Brenna had turned on the television, no doubt looking for news about her father’s death. He joined her sitting on the end of the bed, just as the judge’s picture flashed across the screen with a voice-over promise that it was the next story after they broke for a commercial. Brenna hunched her shoulders as if her father’s image caused her a great deal of pain. She had accepted Blake’s comfort in her sleep. Would she do the same now that she was wide-awake?

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